Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma (15 page)

John was happy to be so kindly received. He could not help but notice that his uncle seemed to have shrunk in size and that he walked favoring one leg as though he were in pain.

During the next few days, John rode over the considerable estate and was happy to see that the tenants had been well cared for and that the rolling hills of the estate were mostly planted in grains. It appeared to be prosperous. He met more people than he could possibly remember—all the tenants, Mr. Lombard, the steward, the head groom, and many of the stable hands. He and Lombard had a lengthy day together discussing estate matters, and John judged him to be an honest, fair man.

“I must say, Uncle,” John told him at the end of his visit, “I feel the weight of your trust in me. This is a fine estate and you have cared for it well. I only wish Thomas could have lived to be your heir.”

“Well,” his uncle told him, clapping him upon the back, “You will do a very good job. I am glad you want to manage the place yourself. That makes me feel that I have done the right thing. I could have left everything to my wife’s nephew, Joseph, but I have always liked you, and you were Thomas’s favorite cousin.” Then, peering up at him quizzically, he asked, “Any plans to marry, John?”

“I do want to marry, Uncle. Let us just say that I am looking into the matter.”

The long day’s ride back to Grenville Manor was spent considering his good fortune. He realized that during this entire time away from home this past couple of weeks, he had not slipped into melancholy once. He took this as an excellent sign and was feeling that all was well in his world when he returned home.

The first person to meet him as he was entering from the stables was his sister. Instead of the loving or teasing greeting that he expected, she said, “John, how could you take Alan’s part? I am your sister, and yet you were perfectly ready to believe everything he said!”

“I take it you have spoken with to Alex?” he said, his feeling of well-being dissipating.

“Yes. And he was very condescending!”

“Will you at least let me change out of my dirt before we have this conversation, Anabella?”

Flouncing ahead of him as only Anabella could flounce, she threw over her shoulder, “I expect to see you in the green sitting room!”

Sighing heavily, John changed mental paths and tried to think of what he could tell Anabella that would not offend her or make her unhappy. This, he realized, was a forgotten and unpleasant part of his childhood.

When he met her, she was pacing furiously, kneading her hands together. “Alan lied to you!” she said. “There
is
another woman! I would know it even if my friends had not seen them together!”

“Now, Anabella, sit down and stop walking about like a woman demented.”

She threw herself into a chair the way she had been doing ever since she was a girl who could not have her own way.

John loved his sister, but he was the first to admit she could blow things out of proportion. He asked, “Upon what do you base this very serious accusation?”

“His treatment of me! John, he has changed. He is very rarely at home anymore. He’s not like other men, at least, throwing away his money on the horses or cards. But he ‘goes out on call’ at all hours of the night. And he will not discuss things with me.” She pouted and stood up again, pacing the room while she threw out her hands. “He is in demand by every hostess in society. They do not bother to ask me to their functions. Only him! They want to discuss charity work with him. They want to know what funds he needs and what his projects are. They ask him to dinner, to tea, even to breakfast!”

“I can certainly see how that would be very upsetting for you,” he said with perfect truth. “Do you belong to any of these charity groups?”

“Most of them, which makes it all the more insulting that I am not invited along.”

“Hmm,” John said, steepling his fingers thoughtfully as he had seen Alex do when dealing with Anabella. “Tell me about these times he is called out.”

“Oh, footmen turn up in the middle of the night and ask him to come…”

“You know, Anabella, if those are legitimate medical emergencies, which I think you have to consider, Alan has to keep them confidential. If he told you about them, he would not be honoring his profession.”

“How do you know that? I am his
wife!”

“He does not want to put you into a position where you might have to keep confidences when you go out in society. He is protecting you and protecting his patients. How would you feel if your doctor related every detail of your confinement to his wife?”

She frowned. “You are right. I would not like it.” Sitting down again, she bit her lip. “That woman my friends saw him with. I still do not believe that was innocent. Nothing can convince me of it.”

“Did you even discuss it with Alan?”

“No. I was too angry. I just left.”

John remembered how much pain this action had brought to Alan. “Anabella, you are not a girl anymore. You have to stop reacting like one. You are a wife and a mother, and for your children’s sake if nothing else, you owe it to your family to attempt to resolve these issues like an adult and not simply run off, willy nilly!”

“Men!” Anabella jumped to her feet. “You all have to be in control. Women have very little choice except to leave or stay. I am going to write to Aunt Henrietta! She will understand.”

His sister left the room and John sighed. What a homecoming. He needed a dose of Alex and Felicity’s good sense. And tomorrow maybe he would call upon the younger Lindsay girls with the hope of seeing Miss Haverley.

{ 18 }

D
elia was very grateful that she had been able to come to an understanding with Mr. Aldershott about teaching his daughter. She moved into the governess’s quarters which were next to the schoolroom at The Elms.

It was a great improvement after her attic room at Lindsay Hall. Mrs. Aldershott must indeed have been fond of chintz, as the room was hung with rose flowered chintz draperies with matching upholstery on a comfortable chair and a pink chintz counterpane. Delia had an adequate wardrobe and chest of drawers and even a small desk. The first night she was in residence, she used the desk to write to her friend.

Dearest Permelia,

I am writing to tell you of my new position at a place called The Elms. Lady Lindsay dismissed me. We did not really get along very well, so I was not surprised.

Through the intervention of kind friends, I have found a much better situation. Mr. Aldershott is a widower with an invalid sister. His daughter, Clarissa, is a darling girl.

As always there is a bit of a fly in the ointment, but I think it will work out. I just have to be firm.

Major Lambeth will inherit an estate in Nottinghamshire. He is there on a visit. I find that I miss his company.

Kindest regards,

Delia

It was a relief to finally be able to teach a true curriculum. Clarissa was a bright girl with an enormous imagination. After dressing Stefano in his “outfit of the day,” ranging from suits to frocks, they studied geography in the morning, starting with Egypt. They were building the pyramids of Egypt with building blocks as Delia and her brother had done during their childhood.

The girl’s reading was well advanced, and she especially enjoyed books about the animals of India and Africa. In the afternoons, they dabbled a very little bit in arithmetic, but Delia’s favorite part of the day was teaching Clarissa the piano. The girl had never had instruction before.

Clarissa introduced her to her aunt, who seemed at first meeting to be a difficult woman who was suffering a great deal of pain. She required that Mr. Aldershott dance attendance upon her and could not bear the presence of Stefano, calling him a “filthy beast.”

In order to smooth matters in the household and give her employer time with his daughter, Delia took upon herself the task of reading sermons to Aunt Mary in the evenings.

“Are you a great reader, Mrs. Scott? Someone has taught Clarissa very well.”

“No. That was her mother. Madeleine was an uncommonly well-educated woman, but she was very foolish all the same.”

Delia resumed her reading. In a moment, the woman interrupted her. “Her death was completely unnecessary, you know. She fancied herself an accomplished horsewoman. She died while taking a jump that was very ill-judged.”

The governess cringed. “She fell from her horse?”

“Broke her neck. Snapped like a twig. Died instantly. My poor brother has suffered terribly since her death. He
will
blame himself. Says he never should have given her such a spirited horse. But that was not the problem. The problem was Madeleine’s hubris. She thought no jump was too high for her superior abilities. A literal case of pride going before the fall.”

“Poor little Clarissa. She must miss her very much.”

“She does. She’s always been an imaginative child, and I’m afraid she has nightmares. Madeleine always put herself before other people. Imagine leaving a little mite like Clarissa to the likes of me to educate!”

It was after this conversation that Delia began to suspect that Mrs. Scott harbored the saving grace of irony in her soul.

She said, “Wouldn’t you rather be reading the novels of Mrs. Radcliffe than these dreary sermons?”

“Much rather, but it’s my only choice if I’m to make it to heaven. And believe me, it won’t be long before I go there or the other place.”

About the third week, Mr. Aldershott became a frequent visitor in the schoolroom and the music room. He would appear at odd times, not saying anything, but observing Delia with his daughter in a way that made her self-conscious. It was the only time she saw him, as she took meals with Clarissa in the nursery.

One day, after he had left the room, Clarissa remarked, “I do so wish that I could make Papa happy again, like he was before Mama fell off the horse.”

Delia wanted to take the little girl into her arms and give her the hug she so badly needed, but was aware of her tremendous shyness.”I am sure you are a great comfort to him, Clarissa. These things take time to work themselves out.”

“You could make him happy again,” she said in a low voice. “I know you could. You have made me happy.”

Startled, Delia said, “I cannot take your mother’s place, dear. I would not even want to try.”

“I see the way he looks at you.”

Delia felt suddenly uneasy. What had Clarissa seen? Was she just exercising that imagination of hers?

She forced a little laugh. “I have seen your mother’s portrait, dear. She was a great beauty. I am not.”

“I think you are very pretty,” said Clarissa.

Delia felt the beginnings of panic
.

“I am just a little dab of a thing,” she said, forcing another laugh. “You must not imagine such things, Clarissa.”

At night, as she lay in her bed, Delia’s thoughts inevitably turned to the major. She wondered if he had returned from his journey. Had anyone told him of her dismissal? Her new post? It would not be so easy to see him now. The Aldershott estate did not adjoin his, and he would have to make The Elms a specific destination.

Had he been troubled by melancholy lately? How did he find the estate in Nottinghamshire? How had he found London? Were his plans for his charity going forward? She longed to see him, to judge his state of mind for herself. She relived their waltz among the yellow daisies over and over and tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Of course, she had never been kissed, but she thought such a thing might be very pleasant. In fact, if truth be told, she began to long for it.

It did not help a jot to tell herself such a desire was futile and absurd.

{ 19 }

T
he second day John was home, he waited until the afternoon before taking a casual stroll over to Lindsay Hall. When he inquired after the young Misses Lindsay, he was surprised to be told that they were in London with their parents.

Walking home, he puzzled over this. Miss Haverley must have gone with them. John could not pretend that this was not a blow. He had been looking forward to their next encounter ever since he had left her side in the daisy field the day before his departure. It was mid-September and now he would have to wait until November before he could see her again.

It had become about more than the mystery. He was anxious to tell her about his project in London and the estate that he would inherit someday.

And, he would be lying to himself if he did not admit that he looked forward to holding her lovely figure in his arms again. Somehow he would make it happen. Even if he had to wait until November.

Anabella continued to shun him, but he enjoyed Alex’s family, teaching Jack to shoot rabbits, playing “horsey” with the twins in the nursery, and carrying Henry upon his shoulders. Alex was very happy to hear the details about the Nottingham property, and he talked with Felicity in private about Anabella’s marriage.

“Alan is very popular with the ladies, it is true. But is it not true that when Anabella was a child she got what she wanted by throwing tantrums?”

John remembered his childhood. Anabella was his younger sister by quite a few years and to be blunt, he had not had much liking for her when she was little. “She was the youngest. I think Mama tried to discipline her, but Papa would always give in and give her anything she wanted.” He paused, looking at Felicity who was mending a shirt of Henry’s. “I was a little surprised to find you had become such good friends. As I recall, until about the time she was married herself, she was quite cruel to you.”

“That is true. She thought Alex was in love with someone else and had been compelled to marry me. Anabella is incapable of not acting upon her feelings, whatever they may be.”

“Well, Alan is weary of it.”

“Weary of what?” inquired Anabella, entering the room unexpectedly.

For a moment he was uncomfortable about having been overheard. Then he suddenly decided that it might be for the best, after all. “You want the honest truth, Anabella?” John asked.

Her eyes sparked. “The
honest
truth or the truth as you see it?”

“The honest truth,” he said. “If you can take it.”